Babysitting
by RightToRemainSilent
Summary: :Teen!Chester oneshot: "Oh kid, I really don't do stories."


This has been up for a while, but I've looked over it before and bits of it were... meh. So I have revised it :)  
Teen!Chester - Sam is fifteen, Dean is nineteen.

**Disclaimer: **Heidi and Hannah are mine. Sam, Dean and the Impala are Kripke's.

* * *

**Babysitting**

"Dean?"

Dean didn't look up from the diner table. "Nope."

Sam sighed. "Please? Not even if I said I'd buy you that Metallica album?"

"I said no Sammy. Kids don't like me."

Silence. "C'mon, Dean! Just a couple of hours."

The table top with its brightly checked red tablecloth and sticky tidemarks seemed incredibly interesting. Dean shook his head, pursing his lips. There was no way he was going to babysit the younger sister of some girl Sam had met at school. No way in hell. "Nope."

"I'll tell dad about what happened last week."

Dean stiffened. Oh, there was no way the kid was going to pull that one. "Sammy…"

"Just agree to the deal, Dean, and dad doesn't have to know about the lovely Tracy. Think about it."

The older brother considered it. He glanced up at Sam and saw he was smirking, an eyebrow raised. "Don't be a bitch about it, Sam." He tried a half smile.

"You know the terms, Dean. You don't do it, and I tell dad what _really_ happened to the couch..." Sam let it hang in the air, the end of the sentence taunting Dean as he slowly caved. "I know he doesn't believe the thing about the dog."

"Aw, c'mon Sammy. Don't do this to me."

Sam's smirk widened. "Just say you'll do it."

A few seconds of silence passed between the boys. Dean grimaced. "Fine."

* * *

Dean tried not to let his discomfort show, and half-heartedly waved a teddy bear at the four year old scowling at him. With every fibre of his being, he hated Sam right now. He supposed he could grudgingly cut him some slack; it was the kid's first date, after all. This Hannah chick had supposed to be watching her little sister, and Sam had kindly volunteered Dean for the job. If he hadn't agreed, Sam would've been a bitch for days. Sometimes it was better to just go along with it, which is why he found himself sitting in an offensively floral living room, being glared at by a preschooler.

And the kid hated him. _See Sammy? I was right. _He smiled weakly and knelt in front of the sofa. "Hey…" What was her name? "Heidi. Ya like teddies?"

The scowl didn't falter for a second. "No."

"Oh. Well… well that's okay, I guess. Do ya like dolls?"

The girl sighed, pulled on her pigtails and sniffed. "I want Hannah." She was wide eyed and the kind of kid normal people would describe as adorable. Suffice to say, that wasn't the word on the tip of Dean's tongue.

He tried the smile again. "Hannah's out right now."

"Want Hannah."

"Not gonna happen, kid."

"Why not?" She set her bottom lip and crossed her arms. Dean ground his teeth. Oh yeah, Sam would be hearing about this for a while.

"Coz she's busy right now, okay? You got me to play with instead." He portrayed his brightest smile, and got a pink-socked toe in the face for his trials. "Hey!"

But the kid was gone, hightailing it out of the living room as Dean had clamped a hand over his injured eye. He gritted his teeth and muttered profanities as he got to his feet. "Okay Heidi, play nice now…"

The kid was gone, but the high-pitched cackle told him exactly where the little demon was. It was probably a good idea Sam had told him to leave the shotgun in the car. He trudged through to the kitchen. "Heidi?"

A pigtail peeked out from under the table. Dean grinned. So far, the kid hadn't seen him. Silently, he dropped to his knees and crept up behind her. When he was close enough to hear her ragged breathing, he poked her in the back. "Hey Heidi."

To say the kid jumped was an understatement; she flew so far in the air her pigtails were almost vertical. "Hey! Meanie!"

Dean grinned and sat back on his knees. "Okay, lets get this straight. You do as I say until Hannah gets back."

He could've sworn the little girl snorted sarcastically. "No."

"C'mon Heidi. Believe me, I don't wanna be here either."

She squinted at him, tiny eyes slits above her pout. "Go 'way then."

"Oh, if I could, I would." Dean sighed heavily, and resorted to his last offer of peace for the girl. A shiny rapper glinted in his hand. "Will you come out from under the table for chocolate?"

She looked like she was thinking about it. "…'Kay." Heidi crawled out from the table, and held her hand out. Dean hesitated.

"I've got more of these in my car. If you do as you're told, I might decide to share 'em."

Heidi caught on quickly. "I get chocolate?"

"Ahuh."

She thought about it for a second, and then nodded. "Okay."

Dean frowned at her. "Will you go and get into your pyjamas before I give you the chocolate?"

A small crease appeared on her brow. "You said if I came out I get the chocolate."

God, the kid could've been a lawyer. Dean gritted his teeth. "Go get ready for bed. Or I'll eat the chocolate, and then you won't have any."

She glared, but scampered up the stairs anyway. Dean sighed, got to his feet and ambled back through to the living room. He fell onto the sofa and groaned. He was going to kill Sam.

* * *

Wide eyes glowered up at him from the sofa. "Mommy always reads me a story before I go to sleep."

Dean snorted. "I don't think so."

The glare increased. "I always get a story." Dean had seen some pretty scary stuff in his time, but this four year old definitely took the cake, and he was about to say so when the girl's bottom lip started to tremble. He felt fear rise in his throat. No. Please, no…

"Okay, maybe we can talk about this."

The lip trembled even more, and tears began to form in her eyes. Dean panicked. She was going to bawl, and then he'd have to try and stop her, and then Sam would bring Hannah back to a screaming toddler who'd be full of tales of candy bribes. Good thing he had lots of chocolate. "Okay, I'll read you the damn story!"

She continued to pout for a second, eyes going even wider. "You said a bad word."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"You said a word mommy doesn't like. A _bad _word." An evil glint sparkled in her eyes. "Read me a story or I'll tell my mommy you said a bad word to me."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Dean sighed. The kid was good. "Fine. D'you want more chocolate?" He was past caring that she'd already brushed her teeth and would probably become a manic ball of energy once her sugar quota was full.

She stopped and grinned instantly. And then she just sat there, looking expectantly up at him. Dean began to get uncomfortable. "What?"

"Story books are boring. _My_ stories are made up in Mommy's head." Dean felt his stomach sink.

"Seriously?"

She nodded. Dean grimaced. "Oh kid, I don't do stories."

"Mommy _always _tells me a story."

"I'm not mommy." She pouted. Dean sighed. "Fine." Then he searched through his head for something he could tell a four year old without having to pay for therapy later. It was a bit thin on the ground. "So, uh, what does mommy tell you about?"

"Unicorns."

Dean swallowed. He could do unicorns. Sure he could. If the unicorns impaled Sam later, or trampled him. "Anything else?"

"Castles. And party dresses and… stuff."

"Do you enjoy the… unicorn, party dresses stuff much?" He could practically feel his masculinity draining away.

Heidi thought about it. "It's okay, I guess." She frowned. "Why?"

Then Dean smiled. "Nothin'. So… do you think unicorns and party dresses could kinda be forgotten tonight?"

"I s'pose."

"Right." Dean thanked God that he hadn't been forced to chatter about pretty princesses and unicorns. Then he corrected himself. He could probably have managed the pretty princesses. "Okay, so. Once upon a time there was a, uh, a little girl, and—"

"What was she called?" Heidi frowned.

"What?"

"What was the girl called?"

Dean improvised. "Heidi." It seemed to please the kid. "Well, one day she said she was scared of… of the monster in her closet."

Heidi had another hole to pick. "I don't have a closet. I've got drawers."

Dean gritted his teeth. _"Fine. _The monster under her bed. And so she told her mommy about it, but she said she was just being silly. So Heidi decided that she would… she would prove to her mommy that there really was a monster under her bed."

"But there isn't."

"Huh?"

Heidi shook her head. "But there isn't a monster under my bed. There's shoes."

"It's a shoe monster."

"'Kay."

"Anyways, so she decides to stay up one night and catch the shoe monster and show it to her mom. She sat in her bed, a baseball bat clasped in her hands—"

"Don't have a baseball bat. Mommy says they're dangerous if you don't use 'em for sport."

Dean exhaled through his nose. "She sat in her bed with a… a high-heeled shoe of her sister's in her hands. Y'know, beat the monster at his own game. So she's sitting there, and there's a creepy noise under her bed and Heidi gets ready to smash the shoe monster in the head with the shoe, and—"

"Mommy says I'm not allowed to fight."

"…got ready to talk nicely to the shoe monster and try and see why he was being a big Meanie. Okay? That good for you?"

Heidi thought about it for a second. "Not allowed to talk to strangers."

_Oh for the love of—_ "Right, okay then. It's a friendly monster and you… you know him real well."

"Then why is he hiding under my bed?"

"Coz… he's really shy. And anyway, you wanted to hit him with a shoe, would you want to come out?"

"Did not!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay! So you want to be friends with this monster, yeah?"

"…Maybe."

"You want to be friends with this monster. And you wait, and he comes out, and then you put the shoe out to him and say, 'here Mr Shoe Monster, I gotcha a present.' And he takes it and smiles, and then goes away again." Dean risked a glance at the girl. She was frowning slightly, and he waited for the criticism. She'd make him make up another one, this time with the castles and the unicorns and maybe fluffy bunnies and then he might _hurl_, and then—

"Okay."

He blinked. "What?"

"I liked the story." Heidi smiled slightly. "What was the shoe monster called?" She slipped off the sofa and Dean thought about it for a moment as she headed for the door.

"The shoe monster? Oh, he was called Sam. Yeah, Sam the shoe monster. Had a big collection of… of pink stilettos. And stuff."

Heidi beamed and trotted up the stairs. She turned to Dean once more, pigtails swinging. "I'm gonna tell Hannah _all _about Sammy and the shoe collection!"

Dean restrained his laughter as he imagined some garbled version of his story being told to Sam's current beau. "You do that kiddo, you do that."

* * *

The Impala was quiet. Sam risked a glance at his brother. "So… How'd it go?"

"Oh, y'know. Kid loved me." Dean grinned his best smile in the dim light from the dash. "Couldn't resist the natural charm."

Smirking, Sam tried to repress a snort. "If you say so."

"Yeah."

"What happened?" Sam watched his brother carefully. He'd probably drugged the kid or something. Dean mused over it. "You did leave the gun in the car, right? Coz that could be hard to explain to Hannah's mom and all."

"Don't look at me like that! All weaponry stayed in the car."

"Okay, okay. So what happened?"

Ah, the usual. Read her a story, and—"

"What about? Hannah said that the stories are always like, made up or something."

Dean bit his lip_._ "Stuff."

"Unicorns? Bet that was worth hearing. You didn't give 'em guns did you? Hannah's mom will kill me if the kid needs therapy, Dean."

"Shuttup." Dean smirked to himself. "She kinda liked my story. So how'd the date go? Break any couches?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Not everyone breaks couches on the first date. The film was good though, Hannah enjoyed it."

"Yeah, like you actually _watched _it." Dean snorted as he caught a glimpse of his brother's indignant glare from the corner of his eye. He raised an eyebrow and delivered the line he'd been saving since being rescued from the floral lounge. "Bet she was turned of by your shoe collection, anyways."


End file.
